


Warmth of Skin

by DarklyDreamingLoki (DarklyDreamingDixon)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Humiliation, Isolation, Loneliness, M/M, Obedience, Punishment, Rape/Non-con Elements, Submission, Torture, Touch-Starved, Verbal Humiliation, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:21:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26707396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarklyDreamingDixon/pseuds/DarklyDreamingLoki
Summary: Loki has been imprisoned by the Chitauri for a long, long time.
Relationships: Chitauri/Loki, Clint Barton/Loki, Loki/Steve Rogers, Loki/Thor (Marvel), Loki/Tony Stark
Comments: 24
Kudos: 89





	Warmth of Skin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lotr58](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotr58/gifts).



> Well, hi. This is my first ever attempt at a Marvel Universe fic. Just a one-shot. Just testing out the waters. My usual wheelhouse is the TWD universe (I write as DarklyDreamingDixon and TWDObsessive) but thanks to LOTR58 I am now also obsessed with tortured Loki. (Also- thanks to LOTR58 for the beta as well!)
> 
> So I'm dipping my toe in the Marvel water here just to see if anyone is actually interested in reading it.

Loki woke. His body burned from a thousand fresh lashes and he catalogued every one of them in his mind. He was empty of magic and his pale skin was covered in purple-blue bruises, deep cuts, blood dripping from his split lip. He was naked. He’d been in the cell for so long he couldn’t even remember the feel of clothes on his skin. Taking refuge in the darkness for as long as he could, he kept his eyes squeezed shut. It was better to see nothing than the loneliness of the empty cell, the same four concrete walls that had been his home for...months? _Years?_ Forever maybe?

His ass was raw and bleeding and the ache brought back flashes of the night before. It had been weeks, maybe even months without any contact from another living being. Alone. Cold. The only food was the scraps that fell from a pipe in the ceiling. He knew where it came from. Leftovers from his betters. He was essentially their garbage disposal. Meatless bones, apple cores, wilted lettuce. He ate whatever they sent down and it was never enough. The only water he had was scooped from the toilet tank with his hands. 

When they came for him the night before, he was relieved. Thankful. They might only stay for minutes, but they would be minutes where Loki wouldn’t be alone. Where he could feel the warmth of other bodies, hear the sounds of other voices. Even if it was going to be nothing but pain and humiliation, which it would be, it was _something_. 

It was pathetic. He was pathetic. He knew this. Pathetic to crave abuse just to stave off the loneliness. But he was no longer in control of his own mind. He’d lost himself ages ago; the cocksure trickster he once was had evaporated into nothing but a desperate, submissive shell of a man. He was a different person now, barely a person at all, really. More like a kicked puppy eating table scraps and begging for attention even though he knew that attention would be in the form of another kick to his side. 

He’d become nothing more than a body to be used and abused. But the fact that someone wanted to abuse him at least meant that someone wanted him somehow. He was not worthless. He was needed.

As he lay on the cot, eyes still squeezed shut and his body curled into the fetal position, his mind replayed the prior evening, the sudden stark bright light as the door was suddenly pulled wide open and they all walked in. 

_Thor. Tony. Steve and Clint. Them but not them. They were Chitauri covered in an illusionist’s spell. He knew that. And they knew that the torture was worse for him that way._

_When they’d first walked in, Loki rolled off his cot and fell to the floor, his body weak with malnutrition and lack of exercise. He bowed down to them, his forehead against the cold cement floor, his entire body as low as he could get it._

_“Please,” he whimpered before anyone else could talk. “Please.”_

_“Please what, Loki?” Not -Thor asked as he put his warm hand against Loki’s cheek._

_He looked up at his not-brother, trying to see something other than disgust in his eyes, feeling the warmth of the other man’s palm against his skin. “Please don’t leave,” Loki said._

_Thor took him by the arm and pulled him to his feet. Smiling, he turned back to look at the others, then back-handed Loki so hard he was off his feet when he crashed into the wall, falling again to his knees before immediately scrambling into his submissive position -- forehead and hands to the ground._

_“Pathetic,” not-Thor growled. “You are pathetic, Loki. Weak and desperate. Look at you!”_

_When Loki didn’t respond, Thor’s voice grew louder. “Look at yourself! What do you see?!”_

_Disguised as Clint and Steve, two of the Chitauri squatted down beside him, one putting a hand on his neck and forcing him to look back up at his brother. The other pulled both hands behind his back._

_“I’m pathetic,” Loki said softly. “Not worthy of your company, brother. Thank you for coming to me.”_

_They all laughed. They always laughed._

_Thor put his heavy boot in front of Loki’s face and Clint pushed Loki’s neck down so roughly that his forehead bounced into the boot so hard it made him see stars._

_“Lick,” Thor said. And Loki licked. It made them stay longer when they spent time humiliating him like this. Clint’s strong hand was warm as it squeezed his neck and Loki’s eyes rolled back in his head as the warmth of the touch made his body feel real again._

_They talked over him, an occasional kick to his side as Loki focused on the taste of Thor’s leather boot._

_He didn’t pay attention to their words, just focused on his task and the feel of Clint’s palm, until suddenly Tony, with a loud, firm voice asked, “What the hell is this?”_

_Thor reached down and pulled Loki to his feet by his hair. Stark was holding up a rotten apple core from underneath the scrap pipe._

_“Are you not grateful for our food, Loki?” Thor asked._

_“I...I...was s-saving it,” Loki stuttered. He could never be sure when more scraps would come to him and on the days that he had some self-control over his stomach’s constant ache, he’d hold something back for emergencies. Oh, by the gods. They were going to take it from him! Loki sobbed, Clint now gripping him more aggressively as if he was trying to pick up a stray cat by the scruff of its neck._

_“You think we’d forget to send you our scraps, Loki? I’m offended,” Steve said as he took the core from Tony._

_“Do you not trust us, brother?” Thor asked. “Because if you don’t, we can leave.”_

_“No...no...please. I trust you. I just...I…” Loki must have blacked out after that because the next thing he remembered was Tony and Steve holding him up against the wall as Thor swung the whip across Loki’s back. The pain took his breath away, each lash swinging harder than the one before it._

_He knew the others were talking, but all Loki could hear was the sound of the whip and the thud of his own heartbeat in his ears. He could feel the blood dripping down his back. Finally, Thor grabbed him and turned him around, holding him against the wall by his throat, the cold of the concrete against his shredded back._

_“Say it,” he demanded. And Loki was so nervous that he hadn’t heard what he was supposed to say that he pissed himself before he could ask what it was._

_Thor looked down in disgust as the others laughed. “You are disgusting, lower than a mongrel dog roaming the alleyways. I don’t know why we take the time to come down here and look after you.”_

_“I’ll say anything you want,” Loki sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll be better for you.”_

_Thor pressed against his neck and Loki took a moment to hope that when they were finally done with him, they would kill him this way, a hand warm against his throat until he had no more air and his brain just fizzled out._

_“Say you are nothing,” Thor said slowly._

_“I...I...I am nothing.”_

_“Now beg us to fuck you wide open.”_

_“Yes, please. I am nothing. Please fuck me. I am nothing without you using me, brother.”_

_Thor let go of his hold and Loki slid down the wall._

_“On your knees, head on the concrete, and hold your ass open for us. Or...we could just go ahead and leave. Might be a few months before we can…”_

_“No!” Loki shouted, his throat scratchy from it’s lack of use. He struggled into position, low on the floor and holding himself open. They all laughed and then took turns breeding him. Telling him that they’d performed surgery on him and he’d be able to bear the Chitauri young. Loki wasn’t sure if it was true or not. It did not matter. He would do as he was told and take as much as he could get in return. And if a hand warming his neck was all it was, then he’d take it gratefully and hope they’d come back for him again soon._

_The men all grunted and roared with pleasure while Loki stayed quiet as a mouse, The painful thrusts came fast and hard, ripping him apart, but the feel of someone inside of him helped to quench his need for contact. Skin against skin. Warmth. Heat._

_When it was Tony’s turn he whispered into Loki’s ear as he fucked him mercilessly. “You are pathetic. Begging to be fucked, crying, pissing yourself. Useless for anything other than a rough fuck. There is nothing lower on this planet than you, Loki. A bitch in heat would be your better.”_

_Loki barely had any room to feel shame anymore, and when he came from the brutal fuck and ugly words, he smiled against the cold cement floor._

_Before they left, Tony pissed on the apple core. “It’s like a preservative. It will keep the apple fresh for you,” he said and waited for a thank you._

_“Thank you, Sir.” Loki was on his knees as they were leaving, tears rolling down his cheeks at the thought of how long it might be before they’d come for him again. Before they’d hold him tight with warm hands, fuck him with a sense of need, make him _feel_ something with the lashes from the whip. _

Loki still had his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to transition himself from memory to a dream. Warm hands on his body. Someone saying his name. The sound of voices other than his own. Even his dreams had been beaten and bloodied so that all he could hope for was the next punishment, the next humiliation, the crippling pain and a warm hand against his skin.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'd love to hear feedback since this is my first Loki fic. Should I write more in this Universe? Should I write more to this particular story? I do hate to leave him so alone and my usual M.O. is happy endings.


End file.
